


This Is For Keeps

by everybreathagift



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Basically every vampire legend rolled into one character, Hannibal is lovesick even as a vampire, M/M, Slight angst but only for a minute, Vampire Hannibal, but only sort of, human will, vampire mating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9004066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everybreathagift/pseuds/everybreathagift
Summary: Hannibal gets attached. Will doesn't really mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpecterQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecterQueen/gifts).



> Part of the Hannigram Holiday Gift Exchange, for SpecterQueen. This was totally supposed to be a really dark, bloody, hellish sort of story but then the boys had *Feelings* and it just... came out this way instead. I hope you enjoy it, regardless! 
> 
> Thanks, as always, to DamnSlippyPlanet, who did a read-through for me on Christmas motherfucking Eve because I am a terrible person with zero prioritizing skills. Love you, Murder Bestie!

He’s been parked outside of Hannibal’s house for ten minutes now. Truthfully, he’d love to blame his position on the storm, but as he’s already soaked through and not made of sugar, he can’t. His legs won’t move, out of fear. Though, what exactly he’s frightened of, he’s not sure.

Hannibal being a vampire doesn’t scare him. But Hannibal being in love with him does? Will’s never feared commitment. It’s more that the concept of commitment seemed like a far-away non-reality for him. He’s too broken, too messy, too _unstable_ to ever commit, or be committed to.

Then again, of course a three hundred year old vampire that spent a few lifetimes as an active serial killer doesn’t mind any of Will’s darker tendencies. If Will’s honest, he’s never felt more accepted or _cherished_ than he has in his time with Hannibal. There’s never a need to censor his morbid thoughts and curiosities because Hannibal never looks at him _like that_. Like he’s broken beyond repair.

Will’s heart does that stupid thing again where he’s sure it’s going to jump from his chest and land at his feet, and he sighs heavily. Slowly, dreadfully, he forces himself from the car, barely concerned about the storm pouring down on him.

Will is barely even up the front stairs before Hannibal is opening the door.

“Hi,” Will says through chattering teeth. The rain isn’t exactly cold, but he’s drenched enough that he’s chilled to the bone anyway.

Hannibal takes his hand and pulls him inside, already wrapping a towel around his shoulders. “Please, go take a warm shower. There’s fresh clothes already in the bathroom for you.”

“I wanted to say- We- we need to talk. For-”

He’s interrupted by Hannibal’s mouth pressing to his, dry and soft and _sweet_ , before Hannibal pulls back suddenly. “Forgive me. That was rude,” he says with such profound sadness that it punches the breath out of Will’s chest. “After. Once your body temperature is back to normal. I’ll start a fire in the study for us.”

Will feels that tug in his heart again, and he nods, dripping all over Hannibal’s floor as he watches him retreat. Eventually, he’s able to move his shaking body toward the bathroom.

The water was probably far hotter than is recommended for the human body but Will feels like a mostly normal person again as he steps out. He sees the fresh clothes that Hannibal has put out for him are his own, the same ones he’d left the last time he spent the night. The night he’d found out about the whole… thing.

They’d been lying in bed, curled around one another as they often were, and Will had the strangest thoughts of Hannibal’s previous lovers. He’d asked, because he has no filter, and Hannibal had answered, because he denies Will nothing. It was the first time Will had ever seen him reluctant.

He explained that he’d had some but none of them managed to hold his attention for very long, because they weren’t ‘the one.’ Will had thought of it in some cheesy, romance novel sort of way until Hannibal clarified that vampires have the literal definition of it. That’s when it dawned on Will that he was it. He was _The One_ for Hannibal. _The One_ , forever. Until Will’s death, or Hannibal’s. Whichever comes first.

Will had tried to respond, and he distinctly remembers wanting to brush it off and fall asleep in Hannibal’s arms. Somehow, though, he’d gotten up, grabbed his keys and left, still wearing Hannibal’s pajamas. Leaving Hannibal behind and alone with no explanation.

That had been a little over a week ago, and his reaction makes him feel utterly terrible now.

After drying off and getting dressed, he makes his way to the study to find Hannibal standing in front of the hearth. He turns his stare from the flames to look at Will as soon as he enters.

“Better?”

“Much. Thank you,” Will expresses quietly. “I didn’t really consider the rain when I rushed over here.”

“There was no reason to rush,” Hannibal says with a warm smile. “I don’t intend to go anywhere.”

Will ducks his head and moves closer to the fire, not so much for warmth but to do something with his legs. He feels stagnant and though walking a few feet won’t change the tense environment, maybe it can prolong the conversation by a few seconds.

He notices that Hannibal hasn’t touched him since the brief kiss in the doorway, and it has to be intentional. At some point, Hannibal’s hands or lips on him had become commonplace. He was always touching Will, in one way or another. But not now, and he’d even apologized for the barely-there kiss.

Because Will had made him think his touch was unwanted. Will’s pretty sure nothing will ever hurt more than this realization.

“I didn’t mean to- to run, or avoid you after, it’s just…”

“It can be disconcerting for a human, I understand.”

Will swallows hard and nods. _Disconcerting._ Yeah, that’s one way to put it. “I don’t want you to think that I’m not interested or- or that it’s unwarranted. Though I guess it wouldn’t matter even if it was unwarranted. Not that I- Christ,” Will sighs, frustrated.

“Will. I understand. Truly. It’s quite alright.”

“What’s it like for you?” Will blurts. “I mean, being, you know… whatever you are with me.”

“We typically call it mating, but I’ve always found that term so bestial. And I’m not entirely sure you’d be comfortable hearing what it’s like for me.”

Curiosity killed the vampire’s _mate_ , and all that, but Will takes a step forward into Hannibal’s space, soaking up the comfort of closeness in hopes of easing his anxiety. “I can handle it.”

Said closeness seems to have a profound effect on Hannibal; he’s usually decent at pretending to breathe, but his chest is now perfectly still.

“I knew you were on your way here minutes before you arrived, because I could feel the anticipation of your presence in my bones. Seeing you sates me more thoroughly than feeding. Your scent is like a drug for me, sweet and fiery all at once.” His eyes close and he breathes deep, head lolling to the side just slightly. “You are, essentially, my sole driving force. You are what tethers me to this planet. For eternity.”

Will just _had_ to ask….

“Wow,” Will breathes, dumbly. Hannibal is so close, and Will wants to kiss him again. If only he could move his body.

Will’s lack of response seems to shake Hannibal from whatever trance he’d entered, and he widens the gap between them once more. “I can imagine how overwhelming it must be for you to hear that,” he explains, apologetically. “However, you should know that mating isn’t always reciprocated. There are many of my kind that have an eternity of longing to look forward to.”

“Wait,” Will shakes his head and presses a hand to his face. “So, I’m your mate, but… you might not be mine?” He’s not a vampire, of course he can’t mate but he just assumed that it’d be a two-way street. “Is it because their mates were humans?”

“That was the original belief, but no. When the humans were changed, they still didn’t feel the connection. Even vampires experience differential mating.”

Suddenly, Will feels something akin to panic rising in his throat, constricting his chest. The thought of Hannibal spending forever alone and wanting makes his stomach turn. The possibility of not reciprocating feels like failure.

Hannibal’s cool hand on his cheek shakes him from his silent breakdown, and he looks up to see concerned eyes. “Your heart is pounding.”

“What if you’re not my mate?”

Hannibal tilts his head. “We would only know the answer to that if I changed you, darling, which is not something I’ve even considered.”

“Why not?”

“You have a life, Will. Friends that love you dearly. Work that is important to you.”

“You’re important to me,” Will says without thinking, but finds a shocking lack of regret over the words. They’re true.

Hannibal smiles, entirely genuine. “It would be your choice, of course. I would only ask that you give it extreme amounts of consideration first.”

Will needs comfort more than he needs anything else at the moment, so he forces down his anxiety and curls into Hannibal’s solid chest, breathing deeply. “I know what I feel for you is something very intense. That’s gotta mean something.”

He feels Hannibal kiss his hair. “Your concern for how I spend my endless years seems for more telling, in my opinion. But we have time, Will. It’s not something you should be so worried over right now.”

“So, you’re in love with me?” Will asks, burying his face in Hannibal’s throat. Eye contact seems entirely out of the question at the moment.

When Hannibal answers, his voice has taken a rough edge. “That doesn’t even begin to properly describe what I feel for you, but yes.”

Will closes his eyes and tilts his head back, a silent invitation to be kissed, which Hannibal takes immediately. He doesn’t want to hear an apology for contact from Hannibal’s mouth ever again, because anything that feels this right can’t possibly be a mistake.

Cool fingers slide under his shirt and onto Will’s back, sending a shudder up his spine that tingles all the way to his toes. Hannibal tastes of finely crafted chocolate, perfectly aged wine and something else Will can’t name but it’s wonderful. Moaning, he wraps his arms around Hannibal’s neck and practically clings, if not for any other reason but to feel how Hannibal doesn’t give at all. Will might as well be weightless; Hannibal could lift him with a finger. Could tear him apart, bare handed, without even struggling.

“I’m sorry I was a coward,” Will breathes against Hannibal’s mouth. “I’m sorry I left like I did. I’m not scared anymore.”

What’s to be frightened of, truly? Eternity with a predator is absolutely acceptable if he can continue to enjoy being kissed like this.

When Hannibal pulls back, his eyes have gone black, like he hasn’t fed in weeks, but Will can’t stop staring at the sheen of his mouth. “May I take you upstairs?”

Still, he’s uncertain. Before, Hannibal would’ve lifted Will from his feet and ignored every faked protest that spilled from Will’s lips. Would’ve pushed him against the wall and took him apart with the barest of touches. Will is going to hate himself a little for a long time.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to drag you up there myself.”

Hannibal smiles, feral and beautiful, something hinting that he’d like to see Will try, and more that he’d like to see Will have the means to accomplish it. 

Hannibal stopped hiding his capabilities long ago, but he takes the stairs at a human pace, albeit backwards so that he doesn’t have to stop kissing Will for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I missed you,” Will confesses as they enter the bedroom, undressing and anticipating along the way.

Hannibal scoops Will up with one arm and eases him onto the bed, and the look on his face should be absolutely terrifying for a human, but it just makes Will’s cock even heavier between his legs. _Like he wants to eat me,_ Will thinks, with morbid giddiness.

“Time is an entirely different experience for my kind,” Hannibal replies, dragging his lips over Will’s chest. “Years pass by like seconds for us. But this last week felt like a bleak lifetime for me. Every moment of your absence felt like ages.”  

“I’m sorry,” Will says again, arching into Hannibal’s touch. He wants to fuck the past week away. Somehow erase the time from Hannibal’s perfect memory.

“You’re here,” Hannibal murmurs as he slides Will’s boxers off. “It’s more than enough.”

Will hasn’t quite learned how Hannibal seems to always be prepared with lube, no matter where they are in the house, but Hannibal isn’t wasting any time tonight. Usually, Hannibal draws this part out, keeping Will on edge sometimes for an hour before finally giving in. The suddenness of his cold, slick fingers slipping inside steals Will’s breath.

“I’m afraid my patience is rather thin tonight, darling.”

“God. It’s good,” Will grunts, reaching down to touch Hannibal’s wrist between his legs. “We can take our time tomorrow. Come on.”

“It’s too soon. I’ve no wish to hurt you.”

He speeds up, nonetheless, spreading and moving his fingers until Will is keening. Will’s cock is dripping by the time Hannibal hovers above him.

It had taken Will a handful times before he was able to talk Hannibal out of the use of condoms. Logically, they were pointless, but Hannibal didn’t want Will to mind the mess. Much to his mortification, Will preferred the after effects of it. Feeling Hannibal inside him for as long as possible. Plus, it gave him an excuse to get Hannibal in the shower with him.

Hannibal looks down at him, jaw tense and Will can see that if Hannibal were human, his muscles would be straining. He’s always so afraid of hurting Will with his strength, but he never has. At least, not any more than Will has asked for.

“Tell me you’re okay, darling. Please,” Hannibal whispers against Will’s cheek.

_Perfect,_ Will thinks. Maybe he says it, he’s not sure, because his heart is racing and he wants Hannibal to move, thrust, go faster, do _something._ He thinks he might die without it. Hannibal being inside isn’t enough, he needs to be consumed.

“You’ve never hurt me before.” He’s sure he managed to get that out because Hannibal groans heavily. “I don’t think you could, even if you wanted to,” he finishes through clenched teeth as his cock twitches between them.

“I’ve thought of it,” Hannibal says, rolling his hips. “I’ve thought of killing you. Draining you entirely. How exquisite you must taste...”

Will wraps his legs tighter around Hannibal’s waist and has to physically remind himself not to bite through his own lip. Hearing of his imagined death should not be so appealing. It shouldn’t make him leak and push him so (embarrassingly) quickly to the edge.

“Could you handle just a taste?” He asks, panting, eaten up with passion and the overwhelming urge to give Hannibal everything he desires, even in half measures.

Hannibal takes Will’s already-bitten bottom lip between his teeth, so gently, only for a moment before releasing it and resting his forehead against Will’s. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “The intensity of how I feel for you isn’t something I can predict or control.”

“You’re it for me,” Will breathes. “You have to be. Never felt anything like this before.”

“Will,” Hannibal chokes, moving faster. “You cannot imagine-”

No. Not half measures. Will wants to give him _everything._

“Change me,” Will says suddenly, desperately, needing to know without any doubt. “Change me, Hannibal.”

“Please,” Hannibal whispers, clenching his eyes shut tightly. “Do not ask that of me right now. It’s too much.”

“I’m sure. God, I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Will begs, incoherent and overwhelmed, physically and emotionally and he _knows_ it’s the right thing. It has to be. “I want it. I want you. Always.”

A particularly hard thrust forces a pained groan from him that bleeds into blinding pleasure when he realizes Hannibal is struggling to remain composed. He wants this, forever. There’s no question.

He tangles his fingers into Hannibal’s hair and guides him down, right over Will’s pulse point. “I’m yours. Permanently. You’ve re-written me, and now I’m part of you, as you are part of me.”

Hannibal growls and licks a hot stripe over Will’s neck. “ _Y_ _es_. It’s almost unbearable. I can’t-”

“You can,” Will moans, flexing his hips in time with Hannibal’s movement. He’s so close, bordering on painful. He’s never needed anything more than this in his entire life. Repeating Hannibal’s words back to him, he turns to press his lips to Hannibal’s ear. “It doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel for you.”

“ _Oh._ Will.”

“Do it. Please. _”_

Pleasure rips through him as forcefully as Hannibal’s teeth through his veins. Briefly, he thinks about the surprising lack of pain, and how death can feel so much like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did, in fact, take the title from The Spill Canvas song of the same name. I don't even care, because we need more slow, emotional ballads about vampire and human relationships, okay? Okay.


End file.
